


Greater Than Gold

by Tyranno



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Fantasy, M/M, literal dragons, they are dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 08:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7041577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyranno/pseuds/Tyranno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the valley between two huge mountains, a black dragon and his princess defend a city from the animal-like wyverns. But as the great black dragon grows older, he also grows lonelier--perhaps the interloper intruding on his territory is the answer to his problems?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greater Than Gold

**Author's Note:**

> [[prompt]](http://bvs-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/804.html?thread=48420#t48420)

The mountain air was sharp with the lingering touch of winter. The trees sighed and rustled in the night. A dog howled and a wolf answered. Imposing against the deep blue night sky was the palace's watch towers, black-grey stone melting into the cliff face around it. Diana made her way up the sharply cut steps, the chill of the ancient stone numbing her feet.

 

She glanced over the horizon and her eyes caught on the jagged edges of the stunted hills. A smack of wind threatened to knock her off the thin path but she stumbled and managed to right herself. With a long-suffering sigh, she pulled her cloak tighter over her shoulders and padded onwards, trying to shake feeling into her feet.

 

It was a far cry from the softer lands she longed for. As a warrior, she was and always would be willing to travel as far as she was needed, but a deeper, older part of her ached for the lush forests and warmth of her homeland. She shuffled her sword onto a more comfortable part of her back and continued.

 

Diana reached the watchtower's heavy oak door, unlocked it, and slipped gratefully into the warmth.

 

The end of a long black tail was visible just around the curve of the stairway, and she slipped past it, sandled feet soundless.

 

The black dragon faced away from her when she reached the observatory, looking out into the deep midnight. When she had first met him, it was his colour that had been hardest to take in. He was as big as a warhorse, deep in the chest with a long head like an obsidian knife, with brilliant pure white eyes. But his colour, the heavy, dense black that even on the brightest days caught barely any light at all, that had been the scariest. It had been less like his colour and more like an ominous absence of it, like the dragon was a gap in the fabric of the world.

 

Diana lifted her hand to the dragon's side, and felt the thick knots of scars and patted him, lightly. She welcomed the warmth that soaked through his skin, and had she not respected him as much as she did, she might try to cuddle him.

 

Bruce snorted in amusement.

 

She almost jumped. Almost. “Is something troubling you, my friend?” she asked, instead, “You haven't visited the court in weeks.”

 

Bruce lifted his head to the horizon. Against the darkness, his shape completely disappeared. She could only follow his movements through the stars he blotted out. _There is something out there_. He said, at last, an odd expression in his eyes.

 

Diana stepped away from him and glanced him over, eyes sharp. She knew him, had rode into battle a hundred times both aside and astride him, she would know him blind and through his breathing alone. “Something or some _one_?”

 

The dragon snorted again, dismissively.

 

“It is not often dragons venture so close to another's territory,” Diana smiled. “Perhaps you should give them a royal greeting.”

 

Bruce's eyes narrowed to slivered of brilliant white.

 

“Don't look at me like that,” Diana smirked, “You're, what, 200? You aren't going to be young forever.”

 

The dragon began to thump his tail, rhythmically.

 

“Alright, fine, be that way,” Diana threw an arm around his neck and scratched the short ruff of feathers affectionately. Bruce shifted away a little, but swept his tail around his paws and curved a wing around her. The feathers had been a surprise, Diana admitted. The dragon had huge, pitch-black leathered wings and from a distanced the feathers looked like a line of short, sharp spines that ran down the lengths of his spine. But they were soft, although tattered. “Whatever you decide to do,” She said into the ruff of musty feathers, “I trust your judgement.”

 

The dragon gazed out into the horizon. Silence settled, and lasted.

 

* * *

 

The valley seemed to glow in the morning, the deep green lake gleamed and glittered like a tray of diamonds. Clark watched a hawk twist and turn in the mountains, he listened for the sharp calls of osprey and the indignant sqwarking of crows. A fox noticed him watching and pelted away.

 

Clark uncurled his long, thin body and stretched out his huge wings. The sun was the same where-ever you were, Clark decided. And he should know, he had circled the earth a hundred times, from the icy plains of his homeland to the baking heart of the desert.

 

He lifted his wings to the sunlight, stretching their delicate folds.

 

A scent, a split-second warning, and a shadow blotted out the sun.

 

The shadow plunged but Clark was already gone, shooting off into the air.

 

Clark twisted his head to catch a glimpse of his pursuer, but all he saw was black. He darted up the face of the mountain, wind smacking his face. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the shadow swoop after him.

 

His thunderous wings carried him higher and higher into the heavens like a loosed arrow, wind roaring past his ears. The mountains fell away, and then the clouds, and the air was thin and quiet. An ocean appeared, unhidden by mountains. For a moment they hung, suspended in the blue heavens.

 

Then Clark dived.

 

They collided with a painful crack, the black dragon letting out a sharp bark of surprise as Clark wound himself, snakelike, around him.

 

They fell punishing fast. Clark folded his wings smooth against him, winding his long body tighter and tighter around the black dragon, feeling bones creak and bend under him. The other dragon's sweeping ribs struggled against him, his breath stuttering in Clark's ears.

 

Clark felt a sharp pain in his sides and realised with a flash of fear that the other dragon had pinned Clark to him. This manoeuvre only worked if Clark could escape before the other dragon hit the ground. Otherwise they were both doomed.

 

The ground raced upwards, clouds and birds flashing past, the ocean vanishing behind the mountain range. Clark loosened himself quickly but the dragon's grip was like iron, pinning his delicate wings to his side with razor sharp claws. If he wriggled too much he would tear himself to pieces.

 

Clark scanned the ground, heart racing. The lake! If only he could land in the lake, then maybe he wouldn't be crushed like a bug. He dug his claws into the black dragon's hide and tried to shove him towards it, but the monster wouldn't budge.

 

The black dragon's face was a mask, white eyes looked at him blankly. Clark tried to read the smooth, black face but the eyes were expressionless and empty. He tried to reach out with his mind but all he felt was a slippery expanse of nothingness. Just whose territory had he intruded on?!

 

The earth was thundering closer and closer as the wind pulled tight across Clark's skull. Terror and panic twisted painfully in his gut and he let out a sharp snarl. The ring of mountains grew larger like the teeth of some enormous beast. The look in the black dragon's eyes was wild.

 

Clark clutched the other dragon closer, fear locking his joints. His eyes screwed shut and his long tail trembled.

 

He was going to die.

 

The black dragon twisted sharply.

 

There was a heavy thump of leather and the wind slammed into them like a wall.

 

Clark hesitantly lifted his head, watching the earth slowly drop away and the trees glide gently past. Above him, gigantic pitch-black wings beat rhythmically.

 

Clark unwound slowly. The black paws still held him in place, but the pads were warm and firm, and the claws hadn't touched him. Fear slowly dissolved from his stomach, and as he loosened his grip a little sheepishly, blood staining his own claws.

 

The dark dragon's smooth and silent flight took them past the crest of mountains, the dragon's long tail dropping to curve paths in the snow covered peaks. The dragon's speed was slow, almost lazy, the thump of wings somehow calming.

 

The dragon flew over the dark fields of trees and turned gently, heading for the ocean. Clark unwound himself further, resettling his paws to more comfortable positions. He even barked a bark that he hoped sounded friendly, trying to goad the other dragon into communicating, but it didn't work.

 

The forest slipped away and the ocean stretched out, impossibly large and impossibly blue. The huge dragon seemed to paused, giant wings beating thoughtfully. And then—

 

—he dropped Clark in the ocean.

 

Icy water stung Clark's snout and he thrashed around, twisting and writhing until he broke the surface suddenly, and he gulped down lungfuls of fresh air. He shot a nasty look at the black dragon who was landing lightly on the beach.

 

The black dragon smirked at him, white eyes gleaming.

 

Clark snaked through the winter ocean, fine membranes along his neck bristling angrily. _That was a bit unnecessary, wasn't it?_ He asked.

 

The black dragon tilted his head. _As unnecessary as trespassing in a huge land that is almost dragon-less. And trying to kill me, no less._

 

Clark slipped out of the water, keeping his head low and passive. He fanned out his tail, shaking most of the water from it. _Sorry,_ He said, finally.

 

The black dragon watched Clark unfurl his wings and hold them up to the weak sun. The colours danced across them like an oil spill, a hundred colours slipping over each other. The black dragon had not seen anything like Clark in a hundred years, thin where the black dragon was meaty, larger, thinner wings, a slim, snakelike body with only two legs where the black dragon had four.

 

Clark shifted, trying to keep his wings from collecting sand in the delicate crevasses. _I'm Clark_ , he said, unsure of what constituted a proper greeting. He knew there was some kind of complicated hierarchy and dragon etiquette based on birth rank, association with royalty and number of kills, but his parents hadn't really been around long enough to tell him, and his foster parents, although they tried their best, hadn't really been much help. _It's nice to meet you_.

 

If the black dragon was offended, he didn't show it. He lifted his eternally passive muzzle and nodded gently. _My name is Bruce. It's nice you meet you, too._

 

Clark beamed, sending happy vibes through his mental link, unsure if the other dragon could receive them. The black dragon—Bruce's—mind was a little less cold than it had been, but there still wasn't much warmth or feeling present.

 

Clark flicked his tail, trying to dislodge the worst of the sand.

 

Bruce stood up, pawing the sand, eyes tracking the tail's tip. He snapped playfully at the colourful frills.

 

 _Oh no_ , Clark said, humour rumbling through his chest, _Don't chase me! My wings are still too waterlogged to fly._

 

Bruce pounced but Clark slipped away, into the forest, and Bruce crashed noisily after him.

 

* * *

 

They rested, finally, in a clearing somewhere in the depths of the dark forest. The dark area of the forest was noticeably different from the brighter, more open stretches. The trees there were gnarled and bending, the shadows thicker, the creatures weirder and bolder. Bruce had mentioned something about magic, about an old witch who cursed the forest to be the grave of any man who wandered through its depths. Although Clark knew that the dangers of the forest left him alone since he wasn't a human, he watched the shadows intently, barking at any deer who stood numbly on the edges of the clearing until they bolted.

 

The sun offered little heat, but it was bright enough, and the running had warmed Clark up enough that his wings were dryer. He flapped lightly in the chill air and folded them comfortably against his side.

 

Bruce watched him, patiently. His sides caught the sun at just the right angle to reflect, and the uneven hide glinted in sparks. Clark had felt the almost-invisible scars, deep as sword-wounds, that slashed up Bruce's ribs. He wondered what could possibly overpower a war-dragon, of all things.

 

Clark realised he was staring and looked quickly away. A still fox was watching them with green, lamp-like eyes, just on the edge of the clearing. Clark yapped angrily at it and shook his tail warningly. The fox turned, slow as a glacier, and padded away.

 

 _You want to ask about the scars?_ Bruce asked.

 

Clark cringed sheepishly. _You don't have to tell me._

 

Bruce lifted his head in amusement. _It's not a particularly ground-breaking_ _story. There's a pack of Wyverns lower down the mountain range and every winter or so they try their luck at overthrowing me. A princess helped me fend them off, and in return I helped her save her knight from their lair. It even scattered them for a little bit._ Bruce looked a little pleased. _Not for long, though._

 

Clark beamed, curling up.

 

Bruce snapped his gaze towards him, unfolding his wings. _This is not a good place to sleep. Come on._

 

Clark unfolded his large wings and followed the black dragon into the sky. They headed south, past the beach, over the large lake, and down into the valley. To his surprise, Clark saw a city had been tucked away in the valley's fold, and a big one too. A large, white-domed palace was carved from the same white, rough stone of the valley's steep walls. Above it, facing out towards the sea, a dark tower melted into the cliff face.

 

Bruce landed in a bustling market square, neatly tucking his wings and tail close to him to avoid hitting anyone.

 

Clark landed behind him and was instantly crowded by curious citizens, eager to make his acquaintance. Clark looked desperately at Bruce for help as a small child climbed onto his back, but the bigger dragon just smirked.

 

“Who's this, Bruce?” An old woman rested a hand on Bruce's side.

 

Bruce tilted his head to the side, and the old woman watched him for a moment and nodded, knowingly.

 

Clark jerked his head away from a child trying to tug his long ears. He gave up trying to discourage another child from tugging at his tail and just sat on it.

 

“Children!” A sharp voice said, and the children immediately scattered. A woman stepped out from the crowd, black hair curling in the sharp wind. It was her stance that identified her as the princess Bruce had mentioned, more than anything. She walked like a royal.

 

“I apologise, dragon,” She said, softer. “The children are used to using Bruce as a climbing frame. They have not learnt proper boundaries.”

 

Clark watched her, dumbfounded, _I wasn't expecting an Amazon._

 

The Princess stared, and glanced down at her breastplate. “You—you recognise the armour?”

 

Clark nodded, _I stopped over the island four months ago._

 

“Was everyone okay?” The Princess asked.

 

Clark nodded. _As far as I can tell._

 

The Princess nodded, sternly. “Come, we'll talk more in the Palace.”

 

The Princess lead them through the market and up, across the courtyard. Clark kept his tail high to avoid hitting any stalls, watching the landscape. Deep in the valley, the sky was a clear strip of blue above them, and the valley walls were white as blocks of frosted ice. Clark had avoided any sign of life he could, sticking the wide, wild outskirts of the world, sick of the strife and grief. But this was nice. Calm.

 

Bruce's tail poked Clark in the snout and Clark nipped at it, sending him a look of exaggerated disappointment. Bruce snorted.

 

The palace was not the grandest Clark had seen, but its sheer white walls and pleasingly geometric shape endeared it to him. The door was wide enough to fit through easily, and the hall inside was huge and decorated with complex mosaic.

 

“This palace belongs to a good and kind King, but sadly he has sickened greatly,” The Princess glanced up at the sun-window that painted a pale circle of light in the centre of the room, “He sent his knights out to find his long-lost children, and in the mean time his head knight has asked for mine and Bruce's help to protect the kingdom.”

 

Clark nodded, sitting down.

 

“Would you be willing to stay?” The Princess asked.

 

Clark stared.

 

Stay? He hadn't even thought about it. Stay here, in a place he knows nothing about and with a dragon he already tried to kill? He frowned. The valley was gorgeous, the forests—even the dark places—were enchanting. The oceans offered chill when he missed his Arctic home. If there was no-one else nearby, it could well be the ideal spot for his lair. But…

 

But… Clark glanced over at Bruce. The smooth, expressionless face was as unreadable as ever.

 

 _I don't know_ , Clark said, truthfully. _I've travelled for so long._

 

Bruce's white eyes watched him. The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Finally, the black dragon lifted his head and met Clark's eyes.

 

Clark shifted and glanced back at the Princess. _Well_ , he said, slowly, _Maybe for a little while._

 


End file.
